just existing.
He pulled back and kissed her hard. They were surrounded by darkness on a daily basis, of threats and evil that wanted to see them gone. It wasn’t just because she was Bronson’s bride now. Even as a peasant she had been faced with starvation, death from disease, and the harshness of the seasons. This was life, and she was glad that she had someone she could be with that knew how hard, but real, it really was.
“I will never let anyone hurt ye again, lass,” he murmured against her belly. He pushed the hide away from her and lifted her gown over her stomach. “And I will make sure that this wee one will never kno’ pain or be frightened either.” He tightened his hold on her. “I have let ye down.”
She shook her head. “No, Bronson, ye didn’t let anyone down.” She cried harder, because no one had ever wanted to care for her the way this man did. Her father loved her, but the kind of affection Bronson gave her was something else altogether. She lifted her hand and ran her fingers through his thick, dark hair, and didn’t care that he was a filthy mess. He was here with her, alive, and there was nothing on this planet that could take this moment away from her. “I kno’ ye will, Bronson.”
He lifted his head, and she saw this raw vulnerability reflected in his face. “I love ye, lass.”
She smiled, placed her hand over his that was still on her belly, and said, “And I love ye.”
Epilogue
Three years later
Bronson ran his hands up and down her back, his still-aching erection pressing against his wife’s moist center. He had pounded her good and hard, made sure she was whimpering for more, but never relented, and had filled her with his seed just this morning. But now he would fill another part of her with himself, and he knew his wee wife would beg him for more. “Ye like what I have tae give ye, love.” He lowered his head and kissed the length of her spine. He had not said that as a question, because Genevieve loved everything he gave her, and always begged him for more.
“Ye kno’ I do, Bronson.” Genevieve moaned out, and thrust her arse out at him.
“In time, darlin’.” He moved back enough that he could look at her bottom. The globes were big and round, and his hands itched to spank her until redness coated them. “Ye want my big cock pushing into yer juicy arse?”
“Ay.” She moaned out and thrust her bottom out once more.
He lost it, so far gone from his need to be inside of her again, that he lifted his hand and brought it down on her left cheek. She made a squeal of surprise, and he grinned. He did it again and again, alternating between her cheeks until both mounds were a vibrant red. He stopped when he saw her clenching the sheets in her hands, and moved back an inch to see her arse and pussy in clear view. She was soaking for him, so wet in fact that her cunt glistened from her cream, and her juices slid down her inner high. “Aye, love, ye are verra far gone for me.” He smoothed his hands over her back, across her generous hips, and along the crease of her arse. He spread the cheeks wide, took in the sight of her tight hole, and the red, swollen cleft of her pussy. His mouth watered for a taste, and his cock jerked in response. He grabbed her by the waist, lifted her hips up, and brought her bottom flush with his groin. She braced herself on her hands and knees, and pressed her ass closer into him. He ran his palm up her spine, moved her hair over, and stared at the graceful arch of her neck. Her back was smooth and flawless, her arse succulent and perfectly round. Bronson had always been one for the female bottom, and his wee wife had an arse that made warriors fall to their knees. Hell, he had fallen to his knees to worship her, because a woman that had a body like Genevieve’s had surely been brought to the land by the gods.
He squeezed her ass, gripping the skin and parting it slightly once more. He was perfectly still behind her, his
He pulled back and kissed her hard. They were surrounded by darkness on a daily basis, of threats and evil that wanted to see them gone. It wasn’t just because she was Bronson’s bride now. Even as a peasant she had been faced with starvation, death from disease, and the harshness of the seasons. This was life, and she was glad that she had someone she could be with that knew how hard, but real, it really was.
“I will never let anyone hurt ye again, lass,” he murmured against her belly. He pushed the hide away from her and lifted her gown over her stomach. “And I will make sure that this wee one will never kno’ pain or be frightened either.” He tightened his hold on her. “I have let ye down.”
She shook her head. “No, Bronson, ye didn’t let anyone down.” She cried harder, because no one had ever wanted to care for her the way this man did. Her father loved her, but the kind of affection Bronson gave her was something else altogether. She lifted her hand and ran her fingers through his thick, dark hair, and didn’t care that he was a filthy mess. He was here with her, alive, and there was nothing on this planet that could take this moment away from her. “I kno’ ye will, Bronson.”
He lifted his head, and she saw this raw vulnerability reflected in his face. “I love ye, lass.”
She smiled, placed her hand over his that was still on her belly, and said, “And I love ye.”
Epilogue
Three years later
Bronson ran his hands up and down her back, his still-aching erection pressing against his wife’s moist center. He had pounded her good and hard, made sure she was whimpering for more, but never relented, and had filled her with his seed just this morning. But now he would fill another part of her with himself, and he knew his wee wife would beg him for more. “Ye like what I have tae give ye, love.” He lowered his head and kissed the length of her spine. He had not said that as a question, because Genevieve loved everything he gave her, and always begged him for more.
“Ye kno’ I do, Bronson.” Genevieve moaned out, and thrust her arse out at him.
“In time, darlin’.” He moved back enough that he could look at her bottom. The globes were big and round, and his hands itched to spank her until redness coated them. “Ye want my big cock pushing into yer juicy arse?”
“Ay.” She moaned out and thrust her bottom out once more.
He lost it, so far gone from his need to be inside of her again, that he lifted his hand and brought it down on her left cheek. She made a squeal of surprise, and he grinned. He did it again and again, alternating between her cheeks until both mounds were a vibrant red. He stopped when he saw her clenching the sheets in her hands, and moved back an inch to see her arse and pussy in clear view. She was soaking for him, so wet in fact that her cunt glistened from her cream, and her juices slid down her inner high. “Aye, love, ye are verra far gone for me.” He smoothed his hands over her back, across her generous hips, and along the crease of her arse. He spread the cheeks wide, took in the sight of her tight hole, and the red, swollen cleft of her pussy. His mouth watered for a taste, and his cock jerked in response. He grabbed her by the waist, lifted her hips up, and brought her bottom flush with his groin. She braced herself on her hands and knees, and pressed her ass closer into him. He ran his palm up her spine, moved her hair over, and stared at the graceful arch of her neck. Her back was smooth and flawless, her arse succulent and perfectly round. Bronson had always been one for the female bottom, and his wee wife had an arse that made warriors fall to their knees. Hell, he had fallen to his knees to worship her, because a woman that had a body like Genevieve’s had surely been brought to the land by the gods.
He squeezed her ass, gripping the skin and parting it slightly once more. He was perfectly still behind her, his
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